


Paint A Perfect Picture

by leggsyunwin



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, i hope u guys like it omg, my first proper attempt at fluff!, polaroids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7253731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leggsyunwin/pseuds/leggsyunwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It shouldn't have been the biggest shock when one Wednesday morning Harry returned from the baker's with a French baguette tucked under one arm and a house key for Eggsy in the other, but Eggsy still blinked slowly when the older man slid the metal across the dining room table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint A Perfect Picture

**Author's Note:**

> My first real attempt at fluff in a long long time !! i still get so nervous writing for the fandom ... please let me know what you think !

It shouldn't have been the biggest shock when one Wednesday morning Harry returned from the local bakery with a French baguette tucked under one arm and a house key for Eggsy in the other, but Eggsy still blinked slowly when the older man slid the metal across the dining room table.

“Wha's this?" He asked dumbly, flipping the key between his fingers and glancing between his cereal and the older man. _20 S.M_ was engraved on the round bow of one side, with a small keychain hooked around it and a red ribbon to add distinction from the various others he possessed; the shop, the mansion, various cars.

"Well." Harry began, rounding the dining room table and shrugging off his coat. “For the last three months, you've frequented a drawer in the bedroom for your clothes, a cupboard in the kitchen for your coco pops and a portion of the counter in the bathroom for your disastrous hair products. I think it's high time you share the front door to this place, too." 

"O-oh." Eggsy tried and failed to hide the smile breaking onto his face. 

"You can come and go as you please, or move your belongings in completely - the choice is yours, Eggsy." Harry smiled, sliding into the chair across from him and taking the younger man's hand in his, key pressed between their skin. It burnt like a brand on Eggsy, but wasn't unwelcome.

"I-I wouldn't wanna impose..." The younger man trailed off, suddenly unsure, but Harry was already shaking his head at Eggsy’s anxiety. 

“ Oh, nonsense. You _know_ I'd be more than happy to accommodate you, my dear boy." With that, Eggsy promptly leaned across and kissed him soundly, coco pops abandoned.

-

"How come you don't have any photo albums around, Harry?" He queried, flattening down another empty box and dragging the last towards him, unpacking the last of his clothes and folding them away. "Or any framed ones, f'that matter?" 

Harry hummed, sipping his tea and shrugging. "All the photos I have are older than _you_ , Eggsy. Kingsman hasn't exactly been the type of job to allow me for such pleasures very often." 

"Well yeah, but not even one'uv you and Merlin? Before you started training?" He pulled a framed image of him, his mum and Daisy out of the box and showed it to Harry in example. Neither of them mentioned the tear at the side- Dean's side of the photograph ripped from memory. 

"Unfortunately not. It would be nice to have some photos around, though. You're welcome to add them to the décor." Harry smiled fondly down at a photo of Lee cradling a baby Eggsy in the hospital room, flipping through one of Michelle’s many photo albums. 

Eggsy placed the frame on top of the chest of drawers, and smiled fondly. 

"So does this mean I can download snapchat for you?" 

-

"What's this?" Eggsy asked, three weeks later as the two were curled around each other on the settee, Harry's arms wrapped around his waist and stroking gently at the soft skin under his polo. 

"I believe it's a Polaroid camera. Picked it up in America. I thought you might like it, seeing as you like photos." Harry murmured, jet-lag and the background noise of _Carry on Camping_ lulling him to sleep. Eggsy smiled fondly and played with the camera in his hands, before turning his head and nudging Harry's nose up with his until they kissed, slow and sweet in the light of the television. 

Eggsy pointed the lens at their faces, raised his arms, and pressed the shutter. 

- 

Ever since Eggsy had stormed into his home and furiously kissed him - " _I can't fucking believe you're not dead", "I love you, you wanker, oh my god.._." - Harry felt like his whole life previously had been in greyscale. Eggsy was so energetic, loud and colourful that, even as an international gentleman spy, he had a hard time keeping up sometimes. 

"No, you see, you just - you press on your face and _hold_ \- see? And then all of the filters come up!" Eggsy grinned gleefully, taking a rather grainy selfie of himself using a ghastly forehead-increasing filter and saving it to Harry's photo album on his phone.

"Oh give it here then." Harry tried one more time with no avail and, henceforth, no filters. "Shit. I don't think I'm quite informed enough on this whole _snapchatting_ malarkey, Eggsy."

"C'mere." Eggsy grinned, shifting on the bed. He took the phone and held it far enough back that both of their faces were on the screen. Harry slipped a foot between Eggsy's as he watched the boy - bottom lip caught between his teeth and eyebrows drawn together. Harry smiled fondly, nose pressing against Eggsy's cheek and hand splaying along his abdomen. 

"See?" 

Harry looked up at the phone to see Eggsy sporting a rather fashionable set of dog ears and a nose. Before he could blink Harry was wearing similar on the screen - his a dalmation patchwork rather than chocolate brown.

"Oh!" The older man laughed in surprise. "Well that's rather good, isn't it?" 

Eggsy preened and took the photo, studying it happily. "S'not a bad pic, is it?" 

There were deep lines on Harry's face, and his eyebrows "lacked game" (as he had once heard Roxy describe her own), but the two men were both smiling dopily in the image. Despite the graininess, Harry pressed a small kiss to the younger man's throat and hummed in content. 

- 

There were an abundance of images of Harry Hart around the house. He maybe hadn’t expected such a sudden reaction from Eggsy after allowing him to decorate how he pleased, but a large part of him found it awfully endearing of Eggsy to pin photos to whatever surface he saw fit. 

The fridge had Polaroids magnetically stuck to the door. One of Harry and Eggsy in bespoke suits, with the older man’s hand slotted against the younger’s waist and both of them gleaming happily as they prepared for the Kingsman Christmas party. The picture that followed was one of Harry and Eggsy kissing under the mistletoe. One of Percival looking stoically uncomfortable in his reindeer jumper. Another of Roxy, Merlin and Eggsy grinning madly. The last was of Harry asleep on the sofa, JB tucked under his chin and a Christmas hat slipping off of his head.

Harry’s desk was also littered in the small mementos. One of Eggsy sleeping, burrowed into the cotton sheets and Harry’s arm. One of Eggsy and Daisy in the park, pushing his younger sister on the swings and laughing gleefully. Another of the boy wrapped up in a scarf, coat and hat on a particularly bleak December morning with a coffee cup close to his face, a bright gleam in his eyes. 

Eggsy kept a Polaroid next to his bedside table; one of Harry laughing into the crook of Eggsy’s neck, the two looking so joyful it’s still the first thing Eggsy looks at after he’s kissed Harry awake in the mornings. 

Neither of them talked about the Polaroid that Eggsy kept pinning to Mr Pickle’s shelf, but every time Merlin came around for dinner Harry made sure to tuck it into his jacket pocket until he was gone. 

- 

“Eggsy.” Harry breathed, fingers clutching at the boy’s hips where he was poised above, straddling the older man’s hips.

“Stay still.” Eggsy murmured, voice rough as he focused the camera on Harry and pressed click. By the time he’d adjusted to the flash Eggsy was already shaking the image, waiting for it to develop. Beneath him Harry grunted, shifting on the bed and - oh - _that_ was his cock stirring in interest. The young boy smirked and rolled his hips, teasing.

Eggsy showed him the picture when it had developed, and _god_ , he looked gone beyond comprehension. Pupils blown, hair a mess from Eggsy tugging at it when Harry had shoved his tongue inside of the boy earlier. “Christ.” He muttered roughly, hands sliding up Eggsy’s ribs. “Come here, dear boy. Come…” And Eggsy did, whispering dirty limericks into Harry’s mouth and shoving the camera onto the bedside table so he could focus on sliding Harry between the cleft of his arsecheeks. 

Three new Polaroids appeared on Harry’s desk the next morning. The first one was one Harry had taken when Eggsy had sucked his cock, the boy a perfect picture of seduction as the rest of the image went out of focus thanks to the older man’s hands shaking with pleasure. The second, Eggsy had taken when Harry had mounted him; hips flush to the boy’s arse and Eggsy’s face taut with pleasure whilst Harry bit into the junction of his shoulder. 

The third, Harry curled around the boy in slumber, marks from Eggsy’s mouth painting his collarbones as the young man smiled knowingly into the camera. 

-

“You’re getting soft, _Arthur_.” Merlin teased, stealing Harry’s phone off of him to inspect his wallpaper more thoroughly. “Thirty years without any photos of you existing and suddenly you have _selfies_ of you and Eggsy as your phone background?” 

Harry smiled from behind his glasses and leant forwards on his desk. “I must confess, the boy’s swept me up in a fierce storm.”

Merlin hummed in agreement, handing the phone back and standing to fetch the bottle of Vermouth from the kitchen. “You must really love him.”

 _Oh_ , Harry thought. “…Yes, I guess I do love him.” He surmised. It was never something they’d said aloud, something they’d never needed because their love for each-other was blindingly obvious. Letting the words roll off of his tongue felt foreign, but set a warm pit in his stomach, and he vowed to tell Eggsy as soon as he got home from Amsterdam.

“Harry. _Why_ is there a picture of me sat in the manor's garden in nothing but a Christmas hat pinned to Mr Pickles?”

-

It hadn’t snowed in London in two years, so when it finally did on a bleak November afternoon Eggsy had tugged Daisy into their Stanhope Mews garden before Harry had finished his pot of earl grey. 

They made quick work of building a snowman, stealing one of Harry’s father’s antique pipes and Eggsy’s Arsenal scarf for decoration. Harry stood on the decking and smiled, taking a polaroid of the two at work. JB sniffed the ground beneath him, barking madly at the snow and diving in (no doubt it would be up to Harry to clean JB and Eggsy up after this sudden change in weather got the better of them). 

That evening the two curled up and watched Pretty Woman, sharing a mug of cocoa between them and trading soft kisses under the mountain of blankets. Harry got a fairly good photo of Eggsy asleep with a cocoa-ey moustache, whilst Eggsy hung a photo of their bare feet entwined in front of the fireplace by the front door.

Harry never left the house without a fond smile.

-

“Oh come on Harry, we have to!” Eggsy was as bright as ever, hands stroking Harry’s arms as he marvelled up at it. “I can’t come back from Paris and tell ma’ mum I didn’t visit the Eiffel Tower!”

Harry hummed, dismissive. “It’s rather a tourist trap and a waste of time, Eggsy. Nothing indulgent there besides a good view.”

“Oh come off it. _Indulge me_ , dear Harry.” Eggsy teased, pouting up at his lover with a spark in his eyes. He knew he’d one this round, because how was Harry to ever refuse Eggsy?

So they took the tourist-y, couple-y photos of them kissing on the Eiffel Tower, both of the men looking rather giddy despite Harry’s protests, and later that evening they took down the Parisian mafia with the picture tucked into the breast pocket of Eggsy’s suit jacket.

-

Harry got home, three months later, to find the house completely empty. 

 _Odd_. Eggsy had not been due out on any field missions and had even texted him two hours prior to let him know he’d grab the take-out for them. Harry flicked on the lamp by the door, eyes adjusting as he shrugged off his coat and hung it. 

That’s when he noticed the pictures.

Harry bent down to pick up the one by his feet, inspecting it. It was the latest to their ever-growing collection, one of Harry asleep against the plane window with a scotch cradled in his hand. The Polaroids led Harry down the hall and upstairs, and Harry indulged Eggsy in this small game and followed, not picking up all of them but merely inspecting them. 

Some old, some new. Some a beautifully artistic shot of Harry gazing up at a painting in the Tate gallery (taken by Eggsy). Some a blurred mess of Eggsy sporting rather questionable undergarments in their stake-out hotel in Paris (taken by Harry). There were even a few he didn’t recognise, like the one of Harry walking JB down the street or cooking in his beige apron, back to the camera. 

The bedroom light was definitely on now, he could see. The trail led him there, but he took his time to relive every fond memory they’d shared in the last ten months of living together before entering. 

There was no Eggsy; just one final photo on the bed, the lamps illuminating the room softly. This photo he picked up, remembering it as the first Polaroid Eggsy had ever taken. The two were kissing, Harry’s face lax as he descended into slumber and a small smile adorning Eggsy’s lips. The image still tugged at his heart, setting something low and warm in his gut. 

Neither men bothered to caption their images, and after witnessing just the number of pictures they’d amounted in eight small months he was definitely not going to start now. However the caption that Eggsy had scrawled on this one was the only exception that Harry would accept. 

_Marry Me._

“Yes.” Harry breathed without a second thought, feeling hands wrap around his waist and Eggsy cling to him tightly. “Yes. My dear boy, the answer is always going to be yes.” 

“I…” Eggsy circled to stand in front of Harry, clutching at his jacket lapels tightly and pulling the older man in for a kiss that made Harry smile the widest he had in a long time. “God, I love you Harry Hart. So fucking much.” 

“I love you too.” Harry whispered furiously, clutching the picture in one hand and Eggsy’s waist in the other and kissing him soundly until they collapsed onto the bed for fear of their knees giving out beneath them.

Harry kept two Polaroids of Eggsy next to his bedside table after that night; one of them being the proposal picture, and the other of the two kissing happily in bed, Harry clutching Eggsy’s face and the band on his finger bright and visible in the photo.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [firth-jpeg](http://firth-jpeg.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
